


A Dream You Can't Quite Place: Spencer Reid UA

by 0lady_bug0



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25698994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0lady_bug0/pseuds/0lady_bug0
Summary: There were many things I had grown accustomed to over the course of my new life. Hearing a last name that wasn’t mine, seeing the sun stream in through the windows every morning as I woke up before the sun was even out, the nightmares that plagued my mind whilst I slept; my heart beat and the sound of breath when a customer inevitably tried my patience. The sound of the store bell ringing. What I wasn’t accustomed to was being starstruck, his hand in mine, realizing what it felt like to feel something that wasn’t fear, anger, nor sadness.I welcomed it thinking life would move on after I met and aided this 6’1 lanky man. However, in my infinite wisdom of fucking up, no such thing happened. And suddenly I understood why Madame Geneva put such emphasis on why love makes you weaker rather than stronger. Why we had to be untouchable, unreachable. Always there physically, but no one should be able to reach us completely.Scenes, settings, and character experience is influenced by Anne with an E, and Marvels’ Black Widow backstory (not movie, haven't seen it yet). I’ll be starting out in Season 1 and play it by ear starting after the “Plain Sight” episode. Mainly because the suffering this poor boy goes through.
Kudos: 2





	1. Hormones? More like HormNO'S

"Oh Annie-,"

"Anne." I corrected, "my name is Anne. 'A' double 'n', e. Not Annie or Anna. Anne." I huffed. He paused, most likely waiting for me to continue with my favorite tangent of the day. "Proceed,"

"Uh, Anne. I was wondering if-"

"You could take me out sometime because you see me all the time in this bookstore, that I own," I finished for him as I rang up his purchase. "That'll be 9.85$ cash or card?" I continued.

"Cash, and well, yes. I just thought you'd like a night out is all." He replied sheepishly handing me his cash. Which at one point I might've found cute had it not been for the fact that he was incredibly boring on every front.

"10 dollars even, here is fifteen cents in change, have a lovely day." I replied with a beautiful fake smile before turning around to leave the _uncomfortable_ encounter. Before I did I whipped around to this poor boy and said, "That'll be a no on the date Jonathan. Your name is Jonathan right?" I know his name, I just wanted to be sure he knew that there was no chance in hell I'd ever date him. Much less stop to consider he was more than just a customer.

I saw him retreat, thank the heavens as a new customer came in, "Welcome to LuBella's Witch El-," oh shit.

"Thank you," the man mutters.

Well, fuck lets go ruin my life because I wanna talk to this _*hopefully*_ of age guy with the most slicked down hair since the 1950's, that I've seen. At least that's what it appears to be.

I find him in the psychology genre seemingly looking for a specific book. But isn't that all customers? Coming in to find a single book. Not to browse and feel the spines of books and smell the absolutely best smell which is, the pages. As I approach as nervously as I can muster apparently, because that's exactly what I'm capable of. Stay on track Marie. I notice his bulky and frankly, ill fitting clothes that miraculously, complement his demeanor. Which I assume is- socially awkward by his stance, reserved by the position his hands are in and a slight ego on the normal side, possibly due to accomplishments. Though that will be judged at a later date.

Finally mustering up the courage I walk up and say my usual, "hello," he looks my way which means I have his attention for eight seconds, "my name is Anne. I'm the owner of this establishment. If there's anything you need help finding or are in need of a recommendation, let me know."

He turns with his full body, good sign, and says, "yes I was wondering if you have any books on mental illnesses and in how they affect the brain." his voice.-Lord thank you for blessing me with this.- comes out quite rushed and a bit nervous if I say so myself.

"Why yes, we have quite a spread, for lack of a better term. It does depend on the specific illness you want to look into though."

"Schizophrenia, and if you have any 15th century literature as well." he replies. Okay, um, my soulmate?

"Wow," I mutter, "didn't think anyone but myself was interested in 15th century literature. But of course I can help, Mr.?" I trail off hoping to gain his name at least.

"It's Doctor. Dr. Spencer Reid." he sticks his hand out to shake, there's the ego. I shake his hand noticing just how large they are. Uh, the things you'd figure out if you weren't BLINDSIDED by your own HORMONES Marie. But his hands are quite nice- stop it. RED FLAG Marie.

Distracting myself from my own thoughts I began pulling a few books off the shelf on Schizophrenia before traveling, with him not too far behind me, to the "classic" literature. His demeanor was slightly more calm and relaxed, that while walking up the stairs I began asking a few questions.

"So, Dr. Spencer Reid." I began once more, "how old are you?"

"Twenty-four," I'm sorry, what?

I stopped before asking, "then how are you a doctor? Unless it's not specifically the medical kind since most doctors in the medical field are pushing their thirties," I start the ascent again as I rattled off information, I swore I saw him smile at me, "unless it's a different type of doctorate, which makes more sense."

"You're correct in your assumption Anne, I have three Phds," he sounds so proud of that, no way he's twenty four.

As we neared our final destination to find books I asked the dreaded question, please don't say anything stupid Spencer, "What do you do for a living, aside from being an overachiever." I teased cocking an eyebrow.

"I work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit." less interested and more reserved. Note to self: don't bring it up. I say, as I don't think I'll ever see him again but I sure hope I do.

"Must be tough. But in comparison to customer service," I sucked in a breath trailing off hoping to make the air seem lighter.

He was about to reply before I handed him about ten or so books; varying in degrees of intrigue if you ask me. "You can stay up here if you'd like, this whole section is 15th century if you don't like what I've picked out. However, I do recommend The Tale of Two Lovers right here," I point to the top book. "It's my favorite." I see him smile and man isn't that just contagious. If I could, no. Out of your head Marie. "When you're done I'll be at the front counter, Dr. Reid." I smile cheekily as I walk away.

I felt his eyes linger before I began the descent. I wonder, had my life not turned out to be the shit storm that it was, if I would feel that way more often. As it was such a nice feeling. Isn't that the beginning thought process of an addict? Finding a feeling, latching onto it and doing absolutely anything to keep it that way. And this Anne Marie is how you ended up in this situation of the lovely apathetic life.

"I would like to take these eight, please." I glanced up forgetting that this, by Gods' gorgeous man, was here.

"Of course," I smiled and began to ring him up, "may I ask why you enjoy 15th century literature?" small talk. I hated it; if it meant prolonging this interaction though. I'd withstand it.

"My mom was a professor and taught it. So I guess I just inherited a liking to it." he shrugged, now slightly more uncomfortable. Strike and a miss Marie.

"Well, it's nice to have something to remember her by. I have a grainy photograph and her wedding ring. But I suppose that it's better that way at times. No one can tell me that my memories are false or created out of a fantasy." I felt the words just fall out before it registered what I had just saID ARE YOU- breathe Marie. It's fine. So fine, "I'm sorry I don't know why I said all that I hadn't meant to."

"According to Psychology Today we often often overshare with strangers for three main reasons. False Intimacy, Reciprocity, and Similarity Bias." he began. "Due to me sharing something slightly more personal than most would know over small talk you felt the need to share something similar about your mother as well." he finished.

"Wow, never had I heard facts spoken so well that actually taught me something,"

"Thank you," he smiled as he began to almost draw into himself. Shyness was the word I was looking for..

I finished ringing him up, not failing to see the Tale of Two Lovers. Despite knowing he was only a customer I was quite sad to see him go. Wondering what could come of it if I had just- no, too risky. It would be reckless to put my name and number on anything that could be traced. So I swallowed my hopes of contacting him and said, "Hope to see you soon, Dr. Reid,"

"Likewise, Anne,"

The bell jingled signally he was leaving and my stupid lady lizard brain just went, "Oh wait!," he'd paused and waited while I walked up to him, "if you'd like I can let you know when new books come in. seeing as you like psychology. If that's alright with you,"

He looked, stunned? No, surprised I'd consider past this encounter almost, "Yes," he said, smiling, "I'd like that, thank you again Anne."

I gave him my number on the back of his receipt, never had I felt so happy for once. Instead of my usual self. Maybe, something good could come out of this strange encounter with the mysterious Dr. Spencer Reid.

Many things could go wrong by doing what I just did. A plethora of things in fact. But had I not it wouldn't have given me the biggest delight of hearing my phone ring in the midst of my spiral of ANXIETY.

"Barreto speaking," I answered the phone hoping it was Bella with an update.

"Um, hello this is Dr. Spencer Reid-"

"Oh," what the fu-, "Oh! Hi Spencer! I apologize I wasn't expecting your call. Especially at this hour." What the fuck was he doing up at four am?

"Did I wake you?" so concerned, how thoughtful of him.

"Not at all, I'm usually awake at this hour." waiting for a response I began doing simple ballet steps. I wonder if he could dance.

"Well then, if I may," he started, mocking my tone that I typically use, so rude, "you got to know a bit about me yesterday. Mind if I know more about you?"

"Not at all, say over coffee at around six am?" Please say yes, please say yes.

"Why not now?"

"Eager are we?" I laughed as I tested saying his first name. Heavenly, might I add.

"Well, no, but seeing as were both up now and still-"

"Earliest a coffee shop opens is six," I interrupted, "latest is 8 am since most folks follow a nine to five routine and are not up and ready to be fully caffeinated at four am. Though, it's quite a nice sentiment Spencer."

I heard him chuckle, a deep one from his chest. I could just feel it. Waking up to hearing that with a lazy good morning just. Makes me question everything I was taught. Makes me wonder how right Madame Geneva was right in love and feelings making you weak. I feel so strong, and I have done nothing but flirt with a random stranger and- stop Marie. That's just your wild imagination talking. Feel all the emotion but remember. Love makes you weak and vulnerable. _You_ are made of marble.

"You're right. Alright how about Merge cafe? They open at seven. Not as early but, coffee is coffee." I smiled, he made plans.

"I'll be there at seven am, Dr. Reid," I mocked.

Hearing him on the phone and talking to me seemed unreal. It was so close yet far out my reach. I wonder if this is due to never having anyone to open to around, never being socialized in the way normal children are. Or if it's due to my impossible reaction of latching onto people when they show me the slightest bit of human affection. Like an emotional leech but worse somehow.

We had stayed on the phone for an hour after we made plans. Neither one of us ready to hang up. We learned a few more basics about each other as most people do. Including weird and mostly useless parts of each other. Why my book store was called LuBella's Witch Elm, the fact that he read a lot of Arthur Conan Doyle. And despite working in a bookstore I had never read any of his works. He vowed to bring his favorite one, which was a surprise for me, to read.

Have you ever felt time moves so fast, and everything seems so fast, especially the good parts. But everything that hurt you, or caused you pain, time moves slower. And how that, no matter how easy and natural everything went with Spencer I was still apprehensive at the fact that due to my upbringing this could just be another thing wrong with me. Latching onto, virtually a stranger. And that after nearly a week of our first encounter with no messages, or calls he wanted to meet me. For coffee. At seven am. Wouldn't that strike someone with a relatively normal life oddly? Or am I just being paranoid and expecting the worst? 


	2. No Second Chance

If there was anything I had learned from my time at the dreadful Beaufort Maison Pour Files. It's that the same events affect people differently. In some cases they can be drastic or invisible. Between my friends and I, virtually invisible on how our time at Beaufort affected us. But looking on a psychological level, we were all affected differently. This is all to say that I'm nervous.

So nervous I'm having an inner monologue about my foster home life and the effects it had on my three different friends and myself. I'm used to being cooler than a cucumber and here I am at 7:01 am sitting at a table near the windows, in the back corner. It wasn't packed yet but that can all change in about four minutes. I'd gone simple, loose overalls with a shirt hoping it would still feel almost like a hangout? Who am I FOOLING. I have NO idea whatsoever as to what I'm doing. The only information I had on dating, being in love, and all those fun feelings was interrupted by a giant flaming- Frick Frack Snick Snack. The bell rang signaling someone entered and I knew Spencer was hot but damn he cleans up even nicer.

He spotted me immediately and in a millisecond he was sitting across the booth from me. He had bags under his eyes which I hadn't noticed before.

He flashed a toothy grin before stating, "I looked it up and yes Bones is accurate but it's a TV show so it's not always going to be accurate."

Happy he started the conversation. I just smiled back and said, "Well until you tell me specifically what you do, I'm going to believe that you're a squint like on the show. Mr. Three Phd's."

Before he could get a word in, the waiter came and took our order. We had relaxed into easy conversation before his cell rang. Not even 7:30 and I assumed he had to leave. He answered and I knew the tone. Something had come up earlier than expected. I knew the feeling. The undeniably dread that you would have to leave. Never knowing if you might make it out alive.

"I'm sorry Anne, but a," hesitant to specify what his job entails, I finished for him.

"A case came up. If I may, when could I see you again?" I asked the last part quietly.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully, standing up with me by his side as we walked to the register, "when cases come up we travel and catch them as quickly as possible. In the meantime I'd be happy to call you." We stood together at the register and I nodded in agreement.

"Well, Dr. Reid," putting emphasis on his honorifics and stepping slightly closer I said, "I'd be happy to call, I'm home around ten pm and wake up as you now know, four am." I smiled as I greeted the cashier ready to pay for our coffee when he stepped in.

"I got this, I asked you to come out early and called you earlier,so let me take care of it." He smiled, I could tell he was being genuine. A gentleman some would say.

As we headed out he walked me to my car before we said our goodbyes. I had wanted to ask so I just did, "Spencer is the reason why it took you so long to contact me because of a case?"

He hesitated, nervous to answer a, "Yes,"

"It's alright you know. I looked up before our time together what being at the BAU entails. It's not easy. However," I heard him suck in and hold his breath as if he was afraid I'd reject him, "I wouldn't mind if after you came home perhaps we could go out? I know a great museum as I know you enjoy them."

"I would love that, Anne. I should get going."

"Goodbye, Dr. Spencer Reid." Neither of us were ready to say goodbye in truth. At least, that's what it seemed to be to me. I'm not always wrong. On the rare occasion I am, it's always with emotions. I guess being made into the monster I am does that to a person.

By the time I got home everything had felt empty. I wasn't used to it, especially after running on empty for so long and then meeting someone that makes me much brighter and happier. Makes me realize just how nice feelings are.

My phone rang this time checking the caller ID. Relieved to know it was Bella.

"Well Baker, what do you have for me?" I asked.

"Well Marie I got good news and bad news,"

"Shoot me," I giggled at my own irony.

"We found her," sucking in a breath, they found her? Where was she?

"Where is she," Wait, what the fuck is the bad news, "what's the bad news Bella?"

"That's the bad news, she's gone."

"FUCK!" a string of curses leaving my mouth in Portuguese, "Where, where do we go from here?" holding the bridge of my nose. Hoping for the best.

"We find everything and everyone she had contact with." calm as ever. She was literally DEAD but alright Baker.

"Okay Bella, but who in the hell did she have contact with? She was in the first month in the program." She never should've been outside the boarding house. FUCK!

"I hear you Marie. But we can never be too sure." she was right and I knew it, "another thing Marie."

"Listening,"

"Williams briefed us. That Reid boy,-" okay no, "-FBI agent and it's Dr." I interrupted.

"Still, be careful. We stayed alive because we were smart to split up and come back when it was safe. One wrong move and you know she will find us. Game over, this whole operation is down."

"I know that." I started seething. How dare she? I know this better than anyone, "Don't think for a second that I don't know, Belladonna."

"Don't Marie," whoops she's angry, "I know all this. I don't want to lose you to that fucking evil woman." I can just hear her voice cracking. It only gets harder as time goes on. Everyday is a question as to whether it would be our last. "Be careful alright, Marie."

And with that the dial tone rang signaling she ended the call. I know she's right.

Tossing my phone onto the counter top erasing the conversation from my head. How does she not think I don't know the dangers of being involved. Especially with someone I could maybe love. To top it off it was with someone in the BAU. A highly valued member and, and, one wrong move and Baker is right. Game over.

It rang again and how fucking dare the girls, I swear if it's Kat I will punch my wall, "Barreto speaking, and I swear if it's you Kat here to give me the same lecture I got from Baker. I will switch your apple juice with whiskey you vodka loving bitch."

There was silence on the other line, but right now all I see is red.

"This is not Kat," a voice I recognized instantly.

"Dr. Reid, I'm so sorry I said that. I honestly didn't know it was you." my face scrunching in absolute horror. Fuckity fuck fuck.

Chuckling he said, "It's alright Ms. Barreto,"

"Using my last name instead of my first? Cruel Spencer." I laughed.

"Well you use my last name all the time if I recall." He chuckled, him and his damn memory.

"To be fair Spencer, It has a nice ring and something about saying it. Is quite nice if I may say so." a small silence followed before I asked, "May I inquire why you're calling me only an hour after our coffee date?" oh wait, was it a date? Or was I just reading too much into it? Am I wrong?

"Well I'm off on a case and I don't know when I'll be back," or if you'll be back, this work is dangerous, "I'll be in Illinois," is he even allowed to release this information? "I hope to call you soon and text you when I land,"

"I would really enjoy that Spencer, be safe out there at least." I pleaded. One wrong move and-don't think about it Marie.

"I will, I have to go now but I'll be in touch." I smiled at the notion. Boy meets girl, girl meets boy. Instant connection over 15th century literature of all things. Acting like a couple after one hangout, who am I?

"I have no doubt Spencer,"

As the call ended I couldn't help but hear her words.

"It was an instant connection. I thought he had loved me and would do anything for me. I thought I was enough, maybe for a while I was but after seeing what he saw every day on the job," she wiped her tears before finishing and saying, "he was never going to be the same. And I loved him so much. Even when he beat me I loved him. So much that it broke my heart."

Maybe she was right. Maybe loving someone can't be enough to shake the horrors they see. And I know that one too well. Going through even a fraction of what Spencer went through, I can't even imagine it. Someone so soft and gentle, almost scared. Not of himself, but of what he's both capable and incapable of doing. That I know. Fearing yourself and your own mind, what you're capable of.

"You don't get a second chance. Not in life, not in anything," I muttered, reminding myself. It's what Madame used to say to us any time we fell behind. Though once we did, that was it. Never seen again.

"Well, that was depressing, thanks brain," I said to myself. It's better, saying it out loud. The illusion that I can shut my thoughts up.

Work days were always slower than they actually were. Helping a variety of people. Including the creeps. The only ones that were actually entertaining were the bitches that asked to see the manager, surprised to see a short girl that looked like she'd be a doting wife as not a manager but the OWNER, always such a power move on my part. However, I hate the notion, unless it was someone on the same level as me. Which is much rarer than finding another girl outside my three friends that were housed at the same group home I was. More than once I considered Spencer to be that man, but who am I kidding. The minute I mention anything about my past, it'll be over. 'Safer though' a voice rang in my head.

Waiting for a call from Spencer, even a text, made the day drag on even more. I shouldn't be expecting one though, I'm just some girl he met. A bookstore owner that he knows nothing of. Except, my favorite color, and artists, and plants for some reason. Even curtains, I prefer them to be light, pink or cream. Something, anything to contrast the dark rooms I had grown used to over the course of a few years. Which is why my apartment was a cream color and the accents were wood to defeat the concrete I was used to. There's always a possibility of him already looking me up. Which I doubt he would. What was there on me anyway? I'm a clean slate. My father, not so much. But me? All there had to be is just a note saying I was in foster care. I mean, I mean he can't have- the buzz, my phone.

I pull it out and see a text, 'Safely landed, I'll call later if I'm not swamped.' Spencer. His first thought when he landed was to text me. Huh, no voices. Strange what dopamine and serotonin do to you. 'Good to know. Be safe though Spence. I'm serious.' I shot back. Was it too lighthearted or mom like? 

Instead of relishing in the happy rush like I should be, I went into my office and made a call.

"Camomila, I need a favor." I spoke the minute she answered.

"What do you need лаванда (lavender),"

"Unnoticed, hack into the BAU with the FBI, make sure they haven't looked me up and on the team that works with Dr. Reid. Give me necessary updates on what you find. No one but the Core can know, I'm serious Baltova."

"I'm no snitch Barreto. Digital or physical?" The thing about Baltova, she never asked questions on why I needed the information I needed. Only provided it. 

"Digital, for now."

You can never be too sure. Better to bury whatever evidence they have on me, then to let them look it up than know exactly what they're dealing with.


	3. *Softly* Hey

Spencer was true to his word as he called fairly often for someone working on a case. Despite him calling me nearly every night he was away, I had no updates from Kat. And that worries me more. Was she caught? Killed? Were we being too reckless in what we were achieving? We leave behind nothing. No signature, nothing a profiler can catch us with, all sporadic and mimicking another murder. So how in the hell could they catch us. Even then we were more careful, never tying ourselves to our crimes and employing people that do anything for the right price.

Ringing, the phone threw me out of my thoughts. “Barreto speaking,”

“Found what you asked for. Most likely story: you’re still new. New enough that he won’t talk about you just yet. No searches about you.” Music to my ears.

And that’s how the conversation went on. Katerina being the ultimate blessing and computer genius in giving me every bit of relevant information.

“Praise you Camomila, for being the genius you are.” I smiled.

“Yes I’m aware,” she shot back, her voice liquid velvet laced with satin ribbons,

“And you were virtually never there?”

“Do you take me for a novice?” she feigned surprise before saying, “I’m a trained hacker лаванда, I can do anything.” I can almost see her smug face from miles away.

“Thanks again Camomila, tell Bella to call with more results alright? We need to know what happened to that girl. Before she’s on the news.”

“I hear you, talk soon,”

The walls often feel as though they’re crashing in when we can’t find a girl. These girls have been through so much. Abuse, humiliation, shame, our job is to protect these victims. How can we assure their own safety when we can’t find the killers of one girl? Poor child. Reading her file never gets any easier.

My brain is midst an endless loop of flashbacks about all the dead girls I had seen, innocent and still children were most of them. But were we children after what we’d gone through, or simply mindless slaves forced to become the monsters that she saw fit to be.

I’d found my way in front of the cafe we’d gone to. Still not being able to get rid of the man that now distracted my dreams. Not that I minded in all honesty. His hazel eyes and slicked hair did wonders to distract my mind from the terrors that often haunted them. Ordering a coffee before I head to work I wonder what he’s doing, if he’ll call today. Or text. If he’ll schedule a meet with me. Feelings are dangerous. I suppose that’s why Madame had me crush them. My therapist would be so proud. I’m psycho analyzing myself. And ‘digging deeper into the source of why I am so afraid to have feelings’ as she’d say. Checking my phone again as I continued to drink my blazing hot coffee seeing no texts, or missed calls. Only sunk me deeper into my hole of self pity.

It had only been four hours into my shift when they walked in. The next girl we would help. The frankly good looking man was getting angier the more she pushed his buttons. I’d introduced myself already and made my presence known. I’d hovered virtually invisible to the naked eye. Just checking on stock.

A swing to a face and the clatter of books brought me to where the girl was and her man.

“Excuse me!” I shouted, not scared to face this apparently large man, ew. “You’ve assaulted a customer. I am asking you to leave.”

“Fine. With her.” like hell you will.

“No, you may leave by yourself,” I stepped closer. Poor girl was hunched over herself, my assistant Amara holding her, shielding her.

I saw it before it even happened, he clenched and pulled back his fist ready to beat me to. Luckily I was trained well, I grabbed his wrist, applying more and more pressure as I spoke, “Attempted assault on an owner. You mustn’t have thought this through,” letting go I continued, “should you follow through, or damage more of my property I will call the police, leave now.”

I gave him my icy death stare that shook him to his core. Eyes widen and he could tell I was serious. Seeing that I was capable of stopping his fist, his face contorted into confusion. At times like this, I am glad at training I’d received.

Screaming profanities he left. Taking the girl upstairs, he was still screaming.

“Amara, call the police,” I spoke coldly, manufactured one might say. Turning to the girl in a softer tone I said, “You’re safe now, he can’t hurt you. Please sit,” seating her on a bed in the top floor of the building.

“I heard about you, I didn’t think this was real.” she looked up to me, tears pooling in them, lip trembling and hands shaking. She said, “I was so scared he would kill me when we got home.” she sobbed her hand covering her mouth.

“You’re safe now, what’s your name?”

“Heather Gilbert,”

“Alright Heather,” I crouched down and took hold of her hands feeling the fear she radiated off, “You’ve heard about our program allow me to get you a pamphlet, we can have you out of here safe before dawn. But decide carefully alright?”

She nodded in agreement as I ran to get her papers and texted Valora she was needed. Amara running up the stairs as I exited the office.

“He’s law enforcement. I called the police saying we’d comply, they’ll want you down there.” she panted.

“Alright, thank you Amara, Girl’s name is Heather Gilbert.” handing her the papers and further composing myself I walked down the two flights and saw the jackass along with local law enforcement.

“How may I help you officers?” I asked calmly and sweetly.

“We just want to know what happened.” One stated.

“Well, it’s unfair that the assailant is here isn’t it? Seeing as how he assaulted the girl up stairs and nearly myself. I told him to leave and now he is trespassing and you condoned it officers.” Thank you Madame for the training. I noticed the shift and uneasiness in themselves as I continued the legality of what they were doing. Topped off with a fantastic, “I would be happy to assist as we have multiple cameras everywhere and can show many angles as to what transpired including this encounter which led you to allow him to enter my business when I told him to leave.”

The officers noticed my voice dripping with venom as they practically ran out with a tail tucked between their legs. Asking for an interview with my evidence tomorrow at the station.

My attention now turned to cleaning up what had transpired; I felt a buzz from my phone. Pulling it out, I had several messages. Including Spencer.

‘On my way lavande, I’ll bring two extras. - V’

‘I just got back, would you like to call soon to discuss our next outing?’ Spencer, such a romantic. I texted back quickly with a time he could call or stop by as I had reserved a few new books we received on psychology and 15th century literature. He texted me. I can’t believe it, he texted me!

“Señora Barreto,” Amara broke me from my happy fit, “Ms. Heather has a few questions.”

“Of course,” I said, leaving to back up the stairs to aid the girl, “if anything happens,” I started.

“I know, scream, and fight back.”

“That’s my girl,” I patted her head and left up the stairs.

“Miss Heather,” I said, once I was close enough, “I understand this is a lot to take in but-”

“I’ll do it. I want to be involved. I don’t want to be scared anymore.” her eyes held determination. I remember looking into eyes like that. We were fighting to stay alive too.

“Alright then, Valora will be here soon, she’ll get you started. Since this involves the police we'll have to take you out of the country to limit anyone finding you.” I started.

“Why can’t I stay here?”

“Because, he’s an officer. I know your family is here,” grabbing her hands as this started to settle in. I finished, “If he thinks for a moment you’re still here, they can be in danger. We’ll protect them,”

“I’m not worried about my family,” she interrupted,

“Then what’s the matter?”

Hesitantly she continued, “It’s my daughter,” what in the fuck.

“Why didn’t you-”

“Her father has custody and it’s not Officer Finn’s. She’s two years old.” she started crying again, I know that look, I saw it on Catherine so many times. A worried mother. “I haven’t seen her in a really long time,” she was wiping her tears in an effort to stay calm. 

“Here’s what we’ll do,” I interrupted, “you will tell us everything about your daughter and the father. We’ll start a protection detail and do what we can.” turning her head so she was looking at me to know I was being truthful I continued, “We’ll send you updates and should law enforcement intervene unnecessarily, we will send them to you.”

“Why not send them with me now,”

“It’ll look suspicious. Instead of looking like the victim you are, they’ll twist it into you wanting to elope with the father. And believe me they will. Any calls will be scanned through and they’ll twist it until the jury no longer believes you.” knowing the system, it’s what they’ll do. Thank you Valora for studying law.

“Alright, as long as you promise to protect her,” she took a long deep breath, seemingly contemplating it a final time before answering, “I’m in.”

Valora was here helping out Heather when Amara came up the stairs, poor girl, running up and down these stairs eighty times a day.

“Señora Barreto, there’s a man here asking for you.” oh fuck.

“Description,”

“Tall, lanky, unsure of himself when he walks,”

“Thank you, Amara, stay with Heather, he poses no threat.” I gave her a reassuring smile to her questioning and slightly scared eyes.

“Spencer Reid, to what do I owe the pleasure,” a natural smile came on to my lips as I approached him.

“You said you had some books for me,” nervous?

“Of course, follow me.” i chuckled, “why do you seem so nervous Spencer?”

“Well, because I wanted to ask if you would like to go to lunch with me?”

"Well, it would be crime on my part to turn down such a cute guy asking me to lunch," wow Marie. Sweet talk much?

“When do you go on lunch break?” he asked now beaming with happiness.

“Please, I’m the boss. Now I go on break. Just let me tell my assistant,” I touched his forearm and gave it a squeeze looking into his eyes before I walked back up these fucking stairs. Why so many of them?

“Amara, Valora.” Their heads turned to me and walked over quickly. “I’m going out, Amara, watch the store, if anything seems off at all, close it and call me. Okay?”

“Yes,” she saluted with a smile I had missed. Turning to go back down stairs; as she was leaving Valora started.

“Careful alright. Getting involved is dangerous. We all know it.” her hushed and slightly judgmental tone, excuse me Valora. 

“And I’m okay to take the risk,”

“Even if it means we take that risk with you?” she leaned in closer and took my hand. I know she’s scared I can feel it. “You know it’s not just yourself you’re putting in danger. It’s all of us.” 

“I know but, we haven’t seen her at all.” I shot back quickly.

“We can’t know if we’ll ever live a safe life. With anyone but ourselves in it. You know that. And just because we haven’t seen her doesn’t mean she’s not out there. Just,” letting out an exasperated sigh knowing I’ll never change my mind, “watch your back. He may be FBI but one wrong move,”

“And I’m dead,” I finished for her.

“Promise me, you’ll be careful for all our sakes. I don’t want to have to bury you too.”

“I will.”


	4. What If, No

At some point, I don't know when, but we had started holding hands. The conversation I had with Valora rang in my head on repeat. No matter how much I focused on Spencer I couldn’t help but think of what she said, ‘I don’t want to have to bury you too’. We’d lost so many people, I understand why. Not agree with her.

“Are you alright Anne? You seem a little, distracted.” he noted.

“How did you, um, how did you,” I stumbled, how could he, how could he tell? 

“I’m a profiler, it’s my job.” he smirked.

“Right,” I sucked in a breath. Can I trust him?

“You can trust me,” his hand over mine seemingly reading my mind. He must be good at his job. 

“It’s just, my friend Valora,” sighing I squeezed his hand, looking in his eyes saying, “I met her and her twin through foster care, it wasn’t easy and not every house was safe to say the least. I’ve seen the causes of being in the wrong relationship and despite getting out, we still. Protect each other with no hesitation,” understatement of the year. He stared at me, listener. “We had to bury a few friends due to relationships before. They don’t want the same to happen to me.”

He nodded, “I get it,” was all he said.

Our hands stayed locked together through our fingers even after our food had arrived. Too afraid to let go or content enough to stay like that was the question burning in my head all through lunch.

“Or hear me out Spence,” I smiled as we began arguing over the bill, “I can pay and you can tip.” 

“Counter argument, I pay,” oh how rude.

“Hmm,” I fake thought, “no.”

“Fine, I pay, you tip,-”

“And I get to pay for our next outing,” I smiled at him.

“Fine, just this once.” He chuckled.

Still holding hands as we left I never realized just how nice his hands felt. Humans were made to show affection which is why it felt like our hands fit. Yet, it still felt like I wasn’t meant to hold anyone else’s hands.

“So are you on your lunch break Spencer.” I smiled as we walked back to my shop.

“No, it’s my day off,”

“Well, without sounding like I’m rushing this, would you like to come back to my place for some books and some coffee?” please, please say yes.

“Why not,” he shrugged.

“Okay, but no profiling. If you do, don’t tell me,” I wagged a finger at him hoping he’d get the memo.

I unlocked my apartment and bee-lined for my bookcase next to the door of my room. Picking out the three books I had saved him and one more for entertainment I turned to see him looking around at the lack of family photos and stuff in general.

“Before you try to search for some hidden meaning, I don’t have much because I learned that you can’t take everything you want to when your house is on fire and you have a duffle bag that you fit in. Besides, I prefer it this way.”

“Except for the books,” he pointed to my books which at this point, were everywhere.

“I read everything we put up in the store. That and I like to read.” not meeting his eyes I hand him the books I gathered.

He took them and said, “You don’t need to be ashamed of anything,”

“I’m not ashamed-”

“Why aren’t you looking at me now then,” he pointed.

“Because telling a man I like any part of what I’ve gone through earlier on in my life is not at the top of the list of things I’d want to discuss.”

“What do you want to talk about then?” he sat the books on the coffee table and still stood very close to me if I might add.

“You. What do you like to do for fun? What’s your home life like. Will I meet your friends or coworkers?” I began rattling, so nervous. Breathe. He won’t hurt you. He’s not a target and won’t hurt you. Squeezing my hand into a fist, digging my nails into the palm to focus on my control.

“Reading and gathering information, I live by myself, I would like for you to if that’s alright.” He answered. “Are you okay, you’re clenching your first?” taking a tentative step forward and lightly grabbing my wrist as I unclenched my first.

“It’s a habit I formed,” I murmured.

“From what you’ve said it could be a number of things, anxiety, PTSD,”

“You must be good at your job,” I chuckled, leaving my hand in his, “Right on the mark. My father had bipolar and gave that to me as well.”

“You’re safe here.” He was so close.

Stepping closer I said, “Spencer can I ask you something,”

“Yes,” he breathed out. So close. He was so close to me all I had to do was get on my tiptoes to reach his lips.

“May I kiss you?” I whispered, as if anyone could hear me inside my own apartment, “You can say no I won’t be mad I swear.” I rushed out the second part. Was this too much too soon? I knew what I wanted and when I wanted it. One of the things we learned was to always take what we wanted because we only have one life to live. And my whole life everything was taken from me despite never knowing why.

His lips landed on mine and I swear I felt fireworks. The thoughts in my head melted away as his hands moved from my wrist to cupping my cheeks. Moving in sync I understand why Madame didn’t want us to do this, because it truly did make us vulnerable. In the best way.

We broke apart and all I could think of was, “Would you, like some coffee?” way to kill the mood Marie.

“Yes,” he mumbled, taking a breath and rushing his words, “I would like that a lot.”

“Take a seat, I'll start a pot.” I walked into my small kitchen but before I started making coffee, I couldn't help but say, “I enjoyed the kiss, Dr. Reid. I hope you did too.”

I went to bed smiling for the first time after he had gone home. Which ended up being near dinner time. He stayed over for coffee and next thing I know we’re next to each other on my couch as I read aloud some of my favorite contemporary books to him. Despite him being a fast reading I wanted to do this for him. Something that was once always done for me. It always seemed much more intimate than sex for some reason. Always feeling like you’re bearing your soul to one another in this hard to remember times that always ended up feeling like a dream. We had shared another chaste kiss at the door before he left and floating was the only way to describe how I felt.

Nothing could kill my mood, except the ringing of my phone. Hoping it was Spencer I answered right away, “Couldn’t stay away Dr.?”

“Ew, disgusting Lavande.” Bella’s voice echoed off the receiver.

“Sorry I was expecting a ca-”

“Call from your man I know Lavande. Val filled me in. Anyway, I got news on the girl.” Finally, this might be the only time I’m happy my rush and flow of serotonin was interrupted.

“Hit me with it.” I need answers on the dead girl to keep the others safe..

“We found the killer, low level mobster,” she answered.

“Okay but that makes no sense,”

“She ended up being involved in some shady shit, Anne.”

“Didn’t we vett her?” that’s the first thing we do.

“It was her first month, barely second week and we were just starting the rapport on her.”

“Got it, what do we do now? We can’t call war on the mob. She’ll find us.”

“Exactly, so we won’t,” I hated this part of the job.

“Okay, any possibility the documents were fake?” We have to consider all possibilities now.

“No, Kat got the reports and triple checked them, even video evidence. She’s more coldblooded than you,” she laughed at the last part.

“Okay not funny,”

“Is too!”

I rolled my eyes “Child,”

“Whatever, talk soon.”

There were many things I couldn’t control that I learned to control. Things that were deemed uncontrollable without medication by doctors I had learned to control. So when I woke up screaming from my paranoia I wasn’t fazed anymore. The beatings and basically torture had wiped me of feeling fazed by PTSD nightmares. No matter how much medication I took they were always there. Her face with her baby in her arms. Knowing it would be the last time she ever saw her. Her green eyes always haunted my nightmares. And I couldn't tell which was worse. That one, or the one where I had to fight Kat and killed her. Like the monster I was.

The nightmare was simple, expect Spencer was there. He made me more vulnerable. I knew the importance of staying alone and alert, never staying in one place for too long. But I didn’t want to leave in truth. I liked him, and I liked it here. I couldn’t just leave should the time ever come. And I don’t think I could. All our efforts were already pushed into finding her, making us safer. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it now. Could she find us? Me? Has she already and is she planning on striking? Will she hurt Spencer? Spencer?

“Hello?” a sleepy voice answered.

I had, I called him, “Spencer hi, um, I’m sorry I don’t know why I called you.” I chuckled. Usually I would call Kat in this situation.

“It’s alright,” I heard the bed shifting and a yawn, FUCK, inconsiderate bitch you are ma-, “What’s on your mind, Anne?”

“I can’t sleep. Byproduct of PTSD is the nightmares-,``''-Nightmares,” we said. Someone’s read up on it.

“How about I come get you, I don’t want you walking out alone,”

“I can handle my-”

“It’s not about that, I just wanna make sure you’re safe is all,” he shifted again and I heard a door opening, “I’ll come over and read until you fall asleep, okay?”

“Alright,” giving in seems like the best option, I’ll need to be up for a full shift tomorrow anyway. 

“I’ll be over in approximately twenty minutes.”

I was starting to lose it. The control I have over myself. I had to take deeper and deeper breaths. bad and even worse things can happen if I don't fix it and regain control. I'm capable of anything and a psychotic break ISN'T GOING TO BE HELPFUL TO ME. I can do this. I can fight it off. the medication will take a least ten more minutes to kick in at minimum. I have to hold out till then.

True to his word he was over in twenty one minutes specifically. I had opened the door and he initiated a hug between us. A small bag hadn’t gone unnoticed by me. Most likely filled with clothes. Finally breaking away I had closed and locked the door, leading him to the couch.

He took my hands in his, they felt so warm and inviting, “Anne, what happened?” soft, barely there, his voice echoed in my small apartment.

“I had a nightmare. It was so scary.” finally it broke. I sobbed into his shoulder. Stunned he froze before relaxing and wrapping his arms around me.

“It’s alright, you aren’t there anymore.”

“I know,” I said, pulling back. Wiping my tears. “But it’s hard to forget. Some things just stay in your head on repeat for forever.”

“Here,” he grabbed a sweater and put it on me, “it’s the one I wear when I feel unsafe. I thought it would help.” he smiled sheepishly.

I wrapped my arms around it. It smelled like him. I looked up to meet his eyes, mouthing ‘thank you’. Unable to trust my own voice. He stroked my cheek and kissed my forehead. Leaning into his touch I did feel safe with him. That he would protect me, instead of me feeling as though I always had to protect with no reciprocity. I felt wanted for once.

“You’re safe now, Anne.” Running his fingers through my hair he whispered, “Would you like me to read to you?” he asked. I must have looked shocked because he pulled out The Tale of Two Lovers ready to read to me.

“Thank you for this Spencer. Truly.” I whispered as we sunk deeper into the couch wrapped in each other’s arms.


	5. The Cozy Interrogation Room

I woke up on the couch only mildly disorientated. Better than fully disorientated. Why is it so warm? Oh, arms are around me. I lightly grab his hands as I remember the previous night. The fear and lack of control, the nightmare. Calling Spencer. This has to be a dream. I dream I wish I could stay in forever. Arms wrapped around me, flush against his body. I pick up one of his hands and start playing with his fingers. Memorizing every last detail of them. His fingers were so long and he seemed so calm. I glanced up to see him still sleeping. The book, slightly discarded on the floor. His breath even and deep. I suppose I could stay like this forever. The safety, warmth.

Why was his lip red like he’d be bruised? Who hurt him? 

“Staring at me?” his voice startled me and I jumped. The deep chuckle I heard when he first called me. And I was right. I could listen to that and wake up to it every morning. 

“Yes I am. You’re cute when you sleep,” I smiled and sunk deeper into the couch we were laying on. So warm and safe that it all melted away.

“So are you Anne,” a chaste kiss landed on my forehead. He watched me sleep.

“I only hope I didn’t drool,” I laughed.

“Drooling is caused by excess saliva in the mouth.” he started, I love his facts more than anything, the way he just knew these things, “Medical conditions such as acid reflux and pregnancy can increase saliva production. Allergies, tumors, and above-the-neck infections such as strep throat, tonsil infection, and sinusitis can all impair swallowing which in turn causes drool.” he rattled off.

“But,” I propped myself up to be face to face, “did I drool?”

“No,” his toothy grin, I can’t get over that. I leaned in and kissed him. Forgetting to ask for consent like an idiot.

“I like waking up to that.” he smiled when we broke apart, “feels so normal. Like this has been going on for a while,” he trailed off.

I just stared at him in awe. He really was everything I could need. He was an equal. But he wouldn’t stay, they never do.

“Hey,” he said softly, “what’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, poking my forehead. Rude.

“Nothing,” I lied.

“You can tell me, I won't get mad.” He cupped my cheek and I felt safe. Like I could truly pour my heart into him. Every dark thing. Every small nuance.

Instead I opted for, “I’m scared that I’m not enough for you. Not just because of my past, but because of me in general.” I looked up to stare at him in the eyes before continuing, “My childhood was fantastic until my parents died in the fire. I can’t in good conscience make myself a burden to you by what I've been through. It’s unfair to you.”

“You aren’t a burden.” we shifted so we laid side by side, facing one another on this cramped as all hell couch, “When you called me, I was scared something had happened. That you were hurt or kidnapped even.” He swallowed hard and wouldn’t look me in the eyes, “As bad as it sounds, I was grateful it was only a nightmare. I can help with those.” I wish he could make it all go away in truth. “I was actually, happy that you had reached out to me. I never thought you would have reached out to call me because of how new this is in truth.”

I couldn’t stop myself, I just blurted, “Have you never been in a relationship?”

“Yes I have. But nothing like this. Nothing where I felt so close to someone I had never known. Wanting to be stronger to protect you, despite knowing you can handle yourself.”

“Well Dr. Reid, that makes two of us.” I mumbled. Scared to admit that I had no idea what I’m doing.

“I’m glad. Proposal, should we figure this out together?”

“Proposal accepted.”

We had moved to the kitchen for some coffee to find out it was five in the morning. He made me sleep in.

Laughter filled the kitchen for the first time as he spun me around. There were pancakes with strawberries and coffee. Nutella smeared on top as he made fun of me for it.

His face contorted into confusion as he asked, “How can you eat that?”

“With my mouth, teeth, and pleasure.” I smiled back, “just try it. Trust me.”

He took his fork and I had finally convinced him to join the dark side of this sugary sweet breakfast. Taking a bite he moaned and dear lord I do love the sound of that, “Alright. You win. That was perfection.”

I heard my door open with a voice that belonged to the one and only, “Lavande!” Valora.

Behind her was Katerina, and Belladonna. Fuck this isn’t how I wanted him to meet my friends.

“Val, Bella, Kat, whatcha doing here?” I chuckled nervously as they grabbed themselves plates and made themselves comfortable.

“It’s the third saturday and thus time to go to the Auclairs’?” Kat stated like I was stupid, I’m not stupid.

“Right,” I glanced at Spencer who looked equally uncomfortable and mildly hurt.

“Who’s this?” Bella asked. Always the peacemaker. Acting like she don’t already know him.

“Uh, Dr. Spencer Reid. Pleasure to meet you three.” He was nervous.

“Spencer, these are my closest friends. Katerina, Valora, and Belladonna.” I pointed them each as they stood at my counter shoving food down their throats.

“Nice to meet you,” Kat was the first to size him up. And I had no time to prepare him.

“You know, I have a book I need to get Spencer and I can’t reach it. So I’m gonna take him into my room to help me. While y’all get an attitude adjustment out here and play nice.” I scolded, taking Spencer by his room and shoving him into my room while the wolves shouted and hollered.

“I’m so sorry I honestly didn't know they’d be here today.”

“It’s alright, I was bound to meet them.” He chuckled, though still nervous. “So, do you think they’ll like me?” He asked as he sat on my bed.

“You’re in a room full of girls that would full heartedly, despite you being in the FBI, would murder you if you hurt me.” I started, standing in front of him, “and you’re worried that they don’t like you?” clasping my hands and pursing my lips, “Make it make sense!” I laughed.

“I know how important they must be since they just walked in and ate all your food.”

“Ah, got me, on, on that one,” I laughed scratching the back of my next.

“How about you get packed, and I’ll go and introduce myself to your friends.” he suggested, grabbing my hands and swinging them around.

“Alright,” he pressed a kiss to my lips before winking and walking out.

The door was cracked so I listened in on their conversation. My go bag was ready so it was FINE.

“So, you’re the one Anne Marie has been seeing?” I guess Bella is leading so far.

“Yes I am. I’ll answer anything,” bad move, Spencer. Never say that to a group of girls who are trained in the art of being an-

“What do you do for a living,” wow Val, just jump right in why don’t cha?

“I work at the BAU, with the FBI as a profiler,”

“Interesting,” Didn’t know Kat was in on it.

“What’re your intentions with Marie?” Val is taking no prisoners with her questions today.

“To be there for her. No matter what, and help in any way I can, and to care about her. As long as she’ll have me.” wow that was, actually sweet.

I slid down my wall and sat as I relished in those words. He wants to be there for me? Care about me?

“Can you protect?” damn, ruin my moment Bella.

“Well it depends on what context,” spencer stammered out.

“She can protect herself physically,-” Bella started.

“Why were you here so early,” Kat interrupted. Leave it to her.

“She called, she was having a nightmare and asked me to come over, so I read to her until she fell asleep.” Yes! You go baby! No that did not just, come out of my MOUTH. Ew.

“I like him,” He’s got Val’s vote, unsurprisingly.

“You do understand that even though she is no delicate flower, we wished she would ask us for help sometimes,” Oh, didn’t wanna be sad today Bella but thanks.

“I understand that. It happens a lot to people who were perceived as strong growing up and felt that they had to be in order to have respect,-” hm, bad, bad call Spencer.

“Save the psychology for someone else,” Kat cut off, “Why did she send you back out here?”

“I volunteered, I know from the information I have so far that you three are the most important people in her life. She probably told you about me prior to this meeting.” he’s not entirely wrong, “and I know she highly values your opinion on certain things that are considered by most, important.”

“He’s nice, and has my vote,” Two down, come on Kat just, give him your vote.

“One more question,” Fuck, “have you two kissed? We’ll find out either way so tell the truth,” uh oh it’s the murder tone.

“Yes,”

“Did she initiate?” skeptic as always Kat.

“Yes.”

“He has my vote,” YES!

My phone buzzed and Valora had texted ‘You can stop listening Marie.’

‘Habit’ I shot back.

I grabbed my go bag and sauntered out to find Val beaming, and Spencer happier than when they first walked in.

“Hope you three weren’t too mean on him,” I chuckled.

“What do you mean?” Kat, always feigning innocence.

“You were literally right by the door Anne,” Spencer pointed out.

“Uh, no! Very much I was not! Wrong bitch!” I stuttered out.

“Yes you were,” the four said in unison. Creepy.

“Maybe I was.” I shrugged, walking over to Spencer putting a hand on his shoulder. He grabbed it. An act of solidarity?

“We should head out,” Bella started.

“See you at the car, лаванда,” Kat smiled as the door closed. Taking a breath I plopped into the chair next to Spencer’s.

He flashed a toothy grin saying, “So, Anne Marie?”

“Yes,” I pursed my lips, sticking my clasped hands out in front of me.

“Where’d you get it from?” He asked.

“That's what you gathered from that interrogation? My first and middle name?" He nodded, awaiting for me to answer his question. He looked like a puppy I couldn't say no, "My mother’s name was Marie, my father's name was Anthony, ergo. Anne Marie,” I smiled at the memory when the Auclairs’ had asked me the same question.

“It’s beautiful.” he smiled, “so the Auclairs’?”

“My adoptive family, we go every third Saturday, you should come. They live in Richmond, it’s only an hour out.” Please come, I can’t endure the taunting.

He took my chin with his finger and thumb, pecking my lips saying, “Next time.”

“Why not this time,” I whined.

“Because,” he was nervous, why was he- oh no he’s gonna leave me? “I have to work. And It would be rude to impose, especially without asking if you would like to be my official girlfriend?”

“If you’ll have me Dr. Spencer Reid.”

He laughed at my antics in using his title before kissing me. The car honked and I was thrown out of orbit with him.

“I guess I should go.” I smiled, unwilling to leave now.

“How about I walk you out too. I should get to work soon.” he kissed my forehead before gathering his clothes in his bag.

I looked down and realized I was still wearing his sweater from last night. I started taking it off when he stopped me.

“It looks better on you.”


	6. 1988 Argeers

I love my three friends equally yah know? We’ve been through so much together. Always there for each other. We patched each other up after nasty fights. And ran from the psychotic Madame Geneva together as she tried hunting us down to wipe our memories and turn us back into her trained assassins basically. But I'm on the verge of using the techniques I learned from the psycho bitch to end my friends.

The taunting started THE MINUTE I STEPPED IN THE CAR! Are you SHITTING ME! The whole hour long drive. I swear I should’ve lit myself on fire. Or thrown myself out of the car.

My only relief was that Spencer had called me his girlfriend. He hadn’t kissed me in front of my friends which I understood. A girl can dream though. I had gotten a sad text from him as he was hunting another killer. Fun, at least he would be in town. THE ONE WEEK, I’m not. I wonder if I would think of me. Probably not since he had a case to focus on. I just wish I could know that he was thinking of me.

FINAlly, arriving at the Auclairs- mansion is what it was in reality, I took a lovely inhale. It’s been so long since I’ve been here. I do miss the safe aura the Auclairs had created for us. Bright and open, safe in the walls that build up their house. In the gardens that they planted for each of us. The girls had linked up with arms around each other's shoulders, taking it all in as though it’d be the last time.

“There it is girls,” Kat started.

“Home,” I finished.

“Oh! Girls!” Mama Auclair came running down the stairs to the house ready to scoop us up, feed us till we were fat, and love us to her dying breath.

“Mama Auclair,” we chuckled in unison.

“I had missed you four so much,” she stepped back analyzing us. “Valora, and Belladonna look happy and warm as ever,” she bopped their noses, “Katerina looking elegant as ever,” she grabbed her chin smiling. “And Anne, you look so happy. What happened?”

I feigned surprise how dare she? “How dare you Mama Auclair, I’m always a ray of happy sunshine,”

“Katerina,” She pressed.

“Marie met a boy.” Kat answered.

Val continued with, "They’re dating,”

“We met him.” Bella finished.

“Traitors” I muttered.

“Oh!” she grabbed me by the arm and led me inside, the girls hot on our tail, “tell me everything. What’s his name? Does he drive? Does he have a job? How tall is he?” she stopped ready to scold me, “how old is he?”

Kat answered for me, “Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI’s behavioral analysis unit. He drives. He’s 6’1 and is twenty four. Birthday is October twenty eight 1981,” I smacked her arm. Vodka loving bitch.

“How wonderful!” Mama Auclair always was a character we had enjoyed. In part because we were used to cold women that would slap us if she thought the children she fostered were hitting on their husbands. “He sounds lovely Anne, Francis is in his study. I’m sure he’ll be excited to see you. Lunch will be soon. I’ll leave you to get settled since you know where your rooms are.” she looked at us with tears, squeezing our shoulders saying, “It’s so good to see you girls back.”

While the girls had gone up to their rooms I paid a visit to Francis. He was my favorite after all. I reached his study, his door ajar and knocked. A quiet come in was heard and I entered.

“Ah, Anne. I missed you.” He smiled and crossed the room to hug me.

“I missed you too Francis.” I smiled, he smelled like antiques and aftershave. Comforting since in reality, that’s how I pictured my father to smell in all my memories.

“Well come on, sit. The word searches I have saved for you won’t finish themselves.”

We sat in a silence as he did the crosswords and I zoomed past the word searches. There was always a quiet notion about us two. We enjoyed small things. The paper, literature, even classical music. Even though Mama Auclair thought it was odd, she enjoyed it and would often join us with whatever embroidery she was working on. I never saw her complete anything though.

Leaving to unpack in my room I had gotten a text, ‘I’m on my lunch break. Would you like to call?’ leave it to Spencer to still have proper grammar even through text. I couldn’t help the butterflies that swirled in my stomach and all around. I felt like I was floating in a garden. The sun, bright and blooming flowers.

Instead of answering though I simply called him. The phone barely rang before I was greeted with his charming, “this is Dr. Reid,”

“Hi there,”

“Hey Anne, what are you up to?” he asked.

“The usual, getting tortured the whole ride here. Being interrogated by Mama Auclair because I seem happier. Leading to my favorite moment of sitting with Francis to do word searches.” I smiled. He thought to call me on his lunch break, why was he- “why are you calling me on your lunch break?”

He quietly said, “I wanted to hear your voice,”

Chuckling, I said, “Well you should get used to it. I can talk up a real storm.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” it was phrases like that, that made me melt. Things people don’t realize are important to mention. I live for them. Like how I am now. “I have to be back soon, but I’ll call you tonight, if that’s alright with you?”

“I would appreciate it if you did, but do you need to go?” I pleaded.

“Yes, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Who are you talking to Reid?” I heard shouted in the background.

“Bye Spence.” I laughed.

Clutching my phone as I fell on my bed. I can’t help but be all smiles. I had never smiled so much in my life. This is more dopamine than I thought I was capable of. A simple call from a man I had put myself out there for was making me feel things I hadn’t known existed. So many things can go wrong but I don’t care. How can I? I want nothing more than to cling to this happiness I had found. Something of my own that I can cherish and care for.

Finishing unpacking I hadn’t realized: My room never changed. She left it untouched. That was the thing with Elizabeth Auclair, she knew us. Never hovered but never backed down to fight for us as if we were her own children.

“Anne, lunch is ready,” Katerina placed a hand on my shoulder but I didn’t want to move. Not yet. “Anne,” her voice laced with concern.

“I’m alright Kat, just thinking is all.” I grabbed her hand. And let it slide to wherever it landed.

“About what?” she stared out the window I was, trying to get inside my head.

“Nothing, just. Elizabeth has done so much for us. She thinks of us as her own. It’s a sentimental notion.” I looked at Kat and could see even her usually bored stare soften.

“She has. We’d be-”

“Lying dead in a ditch if it wasn’t for her?” I finished for her.

“Precisely, but lunch is ready, so get those thoughts out. We’re safe now. She made some classics for us.” she laughed as she left, “Hope you brought your stretchy pants Anne. because tonight,” she clapped, “we dine like royalty!”

Laughing I followed her out. It’s things like this that make me feel as though nothing bad happened. That I lived with the Auclairs for my whole life after the fire. It’s only difficult at times to think about how this shouldn’t have even happened. I was supposed to be an only child to a dancer and musician, living a fancy life. Not, fighting to survive the day. From my own mind no less.

“Anne,” Elizabeth had a hand on my shoulder, ready to play mother. “How about you go outside to the gardens, we added a gazebo to your garden. Francis tried to make it look like the one your parents had.”

“You... you did that for me?” Elizabeth had smiled so brightly, obviously pleased with my reaction.

“Anne, of course we would. Now, go check it out,” Francis reached over and squeezed my hand.

“Thank you!” I hugged them both and ran out to my area of the vast garden they had built for each of us.

The gazebo was just like mother’s. I traced my hands over the carved ridges of marble they had made for me. The dome shape that had angelic like paintings on the hollowed out roof, the pillars with no gates.

“Just like home.” I whispered, the marble exterior Madame worked so hard to build was cracking.

“How about a dance?” Kat said as she played the 1988 Argeers by the Baltimore Consort. My favorite.

The music started and we had started. The turns and light airy steps. My mind turns to mush. Val and Bella joined us, mid turn on pointe even in my poor flats Elizabeth has us wear. ‘Makes the urge easier when you want to suddenly dance.’ is what Elizabeth tells us. Though she’s right, going on pointe without pointe shoes hurts. Not compared to the pain we had to go through.

Even though we say we’re all alright. Happy and the problems have melted away now that we're here. Safe and sound, love found in the arms of a childless couple. Our bodies say differently. They say we’re still broken and beaten from the empty promises we were given, because we still hold perfect posture and our feet are perfectly pointed. No matter how much it hurts in these flats. We smile and laugh even though in our heads, Madame is still there. Watching us, ready to whip us if we mess up. Our hands lightly touch in the perfect position of ‘princess hands’. Even though we’d all lie and tell each other that we’ve gotten over the pain we went through. There’s no lying when it comes to telling our stories through dance.

We spin around and around lost in the sunlight that streams between the perfectly carved pillars. We lock hands to spin in our own big circle. Relishing in the moment that for once we weren’t strapped down to mattresses or handcuffed to bed posts. My hair falls out of it’s untied braid and I love the way it brushes against the bare lower back I have exposed. Even though any other day in front of anyone else, I would have covered it up. Any other day I would’ve stopped to re-tie and secure it this time, even go as far as to run back inside to change.

But at this moment, I didn’t mind.


	7. 1781, The Nightmare

I couldn’t tell which nightmare of the two part series was worse. But seeing as I woke up screaming, it was all bad. The air out of my lungs. I couldn’t shake it. I couldn’t wake up. WHY CAN’T I WAKE UP? Why can’t I breathe? Why won’t my lungs work? JUST WAKE UP ANNE.

My throat is still dry from the screaming, but I can’t open my eyes. Why can’t I open my eyes? WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

The gunshot that’s on loop in my head, when he shot her straight between the eyes. Her screams and pleas to let me live. Begging my own father to spare me.

NO NO NO! Make it stop. WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

The fire that surrounded me at every turn until I had to say a prayer and jump out the window. Hoping I’d make it into the lake, if not, lights out. WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

I can feel it. The water filled my lungs. ‘Keep going Anne, you can make it.’ I’d say.

The smoke that filled my lungs when my own father set to make his own sins disappear. The sin of killing my mother, and himself in the process.

How could he? HE SAID HE LOVED HER?! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

His screaming, the little girls that cried and begged for mercy. But Madame showed none. I could barely make out the words Catherine said when she held two year old in her arms for the last time. Crying and begging for us four 15 year old girls to take care of her daughter. WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

I could still see the decapitated heads of the girls that weren’t strong enough to make it. And those that did survive. Died in that fire with a gunshot to their heads.

I couldn’t stop screaming. Make it STOP! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! SOMEONE, ANYONE! Please. WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! Please! PLEASE!

JUST WAKE UP ANNE

“ANNE!” Kat, it’s Kat. “Anne, wake up. Get Spencer, NOW BELLA!”

Wake up Anne, wake UP!

“Why, he’s not one of-”

“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN, GET HIM NOW!”

WAKE UP ANNE! No air, no air. Why can’t I breathe?

“Quickly, Bella. QUICKLY, before we lose her.” a hand on my face, who was it?

“We’re right here Anne.” Valora.

Air, find air. WAKE UP!

“Anne!” Spencer, air, the ceiling.

Air, air in my lungs.

“Anne, my god! You’re okay!” Kat, focus, what can you see. Gray eyes, her blonde hair. Flyaways from her braid.

“Spencer,” my throat hurts so much, why does it hurt?

“Right here,” his hand on my cheek, finally able to look in his eyes. The brown eyes with sunspots that melted into the overall brown hue. I really could get lost in them forever. “I’m here, what do you need?” his hand cupped my cheek, as the other held onto my hand. My knuckles white, I was hurting him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was- I was hurting you,” I let go of his hand and sat up. Dizzy, with something come toward my-

“OW!”

Kat, what’s she angry about? “What the hell is this Anne?” the medicine bag, with bottles of pills that went unopened.

I could feel his stare, questions flashing across his eyes. Hurt and anger.

“You promised that, you. Anne, Anne how could you!?” She was pacing and getting angrier.

“Getting mad won’t solve anything Katerina. Walk. It. Off.” Bella pushed Kat to the door, taking Valora by the hand, “we’ll give you two the room.”

I couldn’t look at him, much less say, “I know you must have, questions,” this time I dared to take a look at him. Concern glossed over his eyes. “After living with the Auclairs, the nightmares started. I was thrown on medication trying to find the right fit.”

“Why would you stop taking them?”

“Everything was going so well after us, and the visit at the Auclairs. I thought I could do it.”

He caressed my cheek, pulling his forehead to mine, “You know the symptoms of PTSD don’t just go away in fact-”

“I know the facts, I live with them everyday. I had been able to control it before. I really thought I could.” I whispered the last part, I wiped my cheeks with the tears I hadn’t realized were down my cheeks. “I don’t want you to see me as weak.”

“Anne, I could never.” He adjusted into sitting with me on the bed with a courteous “may I?” holding hands close to his chest before kissing them. “Kat called me ten minutes ago, I almost got pulled over driving here. She was so worried because none of them could wake you up. I don’t think I’d ever been so scared.” I saw the tears in his eyes that threatened to spill over.

Unable to stop myself I reached up and wiped them away. My hands shaking to the point where I thought I would poke his eye out, “I’m sorry for worrying you, Dr. Reid.”

“Hey, Reid, oh sorry.” a tall, tired looking man walked in, “We need to get back,”

“Can’t this wait Hotch?” He looked angry that Aaron even suggested that he leaves.

“What are you- what are you talking about?” what was, better, WHO is he?

“We caught a case, and need to go back.” the, man, Aaron Hotchner. Thank you Bella for the files.

Katerina barged in, out for blood judging by her demeanor, “Alright, I can’t wait. You two had your moment. I need answers, NOW Anne,” Spencer tensed even more when she walked in. Holding my hand even tighter like it was his last time.

“Way to ruin the moment Baltova.” I seethed.

“Don’t care.” She dumped the bottles on my lap, and I felt Spencer tense even more seeing the multitude of medications. “Answers, Anne. I’m not burying you too.”

There was a pause, everyone seemed to be holding their breath. I felt Spencer inhale sharply as he thought about the weight of Kat’s words. 

“Okay great, but let’s not shout it right now.” taking note that Agent Hotchner, Spencer’s father figure was right there. RIGHT THERE KATERINA.

“Audience or not, I want to talk to you.”

“I can tell this is uncomfortable for you,” Hotchner looked pointedly at Spencer and I. He was right, Spencer was closing himself off more and more. Not physically but I could feel it.

Feeling the tension I decided to formally introduce myself, no matter how awkward. “I’m Anne, Anne Marie Barreto. I’m Spencer’s girlfriend,” I stuck my hand out. I hope I’m still his girlfriend. He took it and I continued, “I’m uh, not always this, psychotic?” I said as we let go, “That’s the best word I can think of. Usually I'm quite put together. I own LuBella’s Witch Elm, it’s a bookstore. Maybe we can meet more properly, over coffee? I know you’re important to Spencer.” 

“That would be nice,” he curtly nodded, his own own discomfort showing. Even Spencer, his hands had started to shake.

“Great, you’re acquainted. Leave.” Kat’s voice dripping with venom.

“BALTOVA!” I shouted, which even scared her, “Shut up or leave. Got it?”

I squeezed Spencer’s hand hoping he’d get the memo. And despite not picking up on social cues as well, he did. He seemed hesitant to accept the fact that I needed to be alone. Or that he needed to be at work. Or that Kat was two seconds away from shoving him out the door.

“I’ll get going. I’ll try to stop by later.” he stammered out. I know he needed answers, but he. How could I?

He kissed my forehead, “Please do,” I whispered. ‘Save me’ I mouthed.

“I’m scared of her,” he chuckled.

“As you should be, hurry up,”

We walked them out the door. Before he left, Spencer pulled me in close by the waist. Burying his head in my hair. No matter how hard he tried to keep it in, I felt a few tears in my hair. As a reflex I held him tighter, afraid that if I let go, he’d just vanish. The door closed and Kat was right in my face ready to lecture.

“Talk. Now.” She demanded as we walked into the kitchen.

“Why did you call Spencer?” I turned to stare her down, “He didn’t need to see that,”

Stepping closer she shot, “Funny, I don’t care. Why in the hell are you off your meds?”

I couldn’t look at her, I can’t just. Tell her the truth, it would break her heart. “Because I thought I could handle it.”

“We all live with it, Anne. We haven’t gone off our meds because we know the dangers.”

Bella approached Kat, scared of her, I would be to, “Kat, take a breath-”

“I WON’T!” She sighed, half realizing why I did it, “We could’ve lost her.” She turned back to me, softer now, “I know you want to feel in control again, but Anne-”

“I can’t live like this!” I screamed, lies. All lies, and I keep lying as I continue, “Not anymore. Not on the meds, not in this life! I want to be normal. I want to kiss Spencer and not be afraid. To be with you three and not be scared. I’m sick and tired of you three acting like at any moment I’ll break. I’ll snap and be gone. I’m not helpless-”

“IT’S NOT ABOUT THAT!” She screamed, hyperventilating and scrubbing a hand over her face she continued, “We called him because you weren’t waking up. Any longer and you could’ve had a heart attack, or a seizure. We could have lost you,” she hugged me close, before burying her tears, taking a deep breath, saying, “You will get back on your meds. And you will start seeing a therapist again. And you will take some time off work to get your mind back to being clear and level headed. Understood?”

“I told you, you’ll be alright. He’s a great psychiatrist, and well regarded,” Spencer’s voice rang through my phone as I walked through the hallways of the office building.

“Doesn’t mean He can’t be a serial killer. Or rapist,” I muttered.

“I wouldn’t send you there if he was. And I would know. Profiler remember?” I laughed, he was right. But I couldn’t shake the fact that he could turn me in. reveal me to Spencer.

“He won’t say anything to me. He’ll tell the Auclairs before he tells me if it’s something that could hurt you.” He was good at easing my nerves.

“Yeah, yeah,” I was right in front of the doors. ‘Dr. Nick Perlta’ the plaque read. “I’m here, I’m still nervous, and mad that you and Katerina went behind my back for this.”

“I know, but she cornered me and I’m still too scared to say no,” he chuckled, but he meant it.

“Well, I’ll live with that, for now.” sighing I just took a breath ready to ask, “Before I go in. Mind if maybe I meet your team? Or at least Hotchner? You brought him with you to my place.”

“Do you mind if I think about it?” He asked.

Disappointed, I just said, “Alright, not to long though buckaroo.”

The dial tone rang in my ears before I clutched my phone. It’ll be alright. He won't hurt you. If he does, I know 200 logical ways to kill him and hide his body. And more ways to kill, unconventionally though.

Sucking in a breath I walked in to see Dr. Perlta.

“Ah, you must be Anne Barreto!” he smiled. Inviting he may be, won’t stop me from being skeptical.

“Marie,” I answered, “I prefer Marie,”

He raised a brow, “Any particular reason?” already analyzing me. I would expect no less.

I never did trust doctors, therapists or psychiatrists though, “I don’t know you, so why would I tell you?”

“Understandable. Come sit, let’s get started.”


	8. Tuck Everlasting

"See?" Spencer smirked, "It wasn't that bad?"

Holding out his hand for me I took it before swallowing the insane amount of meds, "No," I chugged some water, wiping my mouth with my hand, "I just hate them."

"Well, it's better to take them," he kissed my forehead, mostly because he ran out of comebacks.

I leaned into his touch, a muffled "Yeah, yeah." coming out.

"So, let's go out," I looked up, shocked that he, socially awkward Spencer Reid, wanted to go out. "You, me. Dinner? Around," he glanced at the clock on my microwave, "say seven? I'll take you somewhere fancy."

"Well, I do love to eat. And I like you. It's a win-win. Pick me up?" I asked.

"Yes, I'll see you then."

We kissed goodbye at my door before I ran back checking that it was 5:30. Oh this evil man. Left me no time to prepare for this important date.

A knock on my door tore me away from my shoe deciding ceremony. Sad. I was just about to pick a pair. I snatched the shoes I was gonna pick and ran to the door, careful not to trip in this slightly too long for my short self dress.

I opened the door to a whole ass MEAL, my man, "Hey there Dr. looking sharp.” I smiled as I made it obvious I was checking him out.

He bowed his head and nervously chuckled out, "Thank you Anne. You look gorgeous."

"I appreciate you for noticing, come in I just gotta slip on my shoes." He entered my apartment and I just. FUCK! He looks so good.

I slipped on my heels which made me a solid 5'5.

"You're wearing heels and still shorter than me," he pointed out.

I poked his stomach, "Not my fault you're a six foot one string bean,"

"Hey, no cheap shots, I'm ticklish there." He said, grabbing my hands to hold them in place before I could continue to tickle him.

"You got some freakishly large hands there Dr. Reid," I smirked.

"For my height and size they're quite average. You just have smaller hands," he smiled, pecking my forehead.

"Hey! No fair!" I shouted, playfully pouting, "I would like a real kiss now. Please." I begged with puppy dog eyes.

"You said I have 'freakishly large hands' and you want a kiss?" He questioned, tipping my head up with his other hand. 

I batted my eyes with a convincing, "Pretty please?" plead.

"Alright, I can't say no to that face," He kissed me sweetly. My hands falling out of his only to find their way to around his neck. Tangling them at the bottom of his hair while his other hand settled on my lower back.

Relax Marie, he won't hurt you. Nor will he bring up all the texture left by the scars. It's okay. Everything is most definitely not okay but power through. Because it doesn't matter anymore. That won't happen, you're safe now.

We broke the kiss only for him to say, "We should go, don't wanna miss our date night."

In truth, I could've kissed him all night.

"Right this way please," the hostess smiled. We sat at a table near the back and it really was perfect.

"Thank you," I smiled as we took our seats.

"So Spencer I have a serious question to ask you," I started out. I really didn't. I just wanted to break the stuffy evening. I hated fancy evenings.

He glanced nervously at me before saying, "Sure,"

"Do you know the muffin man?" I asked, "There is only one right answer."

"He lives on Drury Lane right?" He laughed, "That was your serious question?" He smirked.

I shot a serious look before laughing, "I had to make sure. Not everyone knows who the muffin man is."

"Well, I do."

The date had gone off without a single hitch. We had laughed and shared the moments that seem far away in a dream you can't remember but know was good.

"Anne," Spencer started as we walked through the little cityscape area to his car.

"Yes?" I smiled back.

Nervously he said, "Would you like to come over maybe?"

"Yes, I'd like that a lot actually."

So that's where we headed, to his place. I wasn't nervous for anything other than the fact that this man. This, extraordinary man was even mildly interested in me. Guess that's what years of psychological torture does to you. Don't think about it Anne.

We reached his door which he unlocked with ease, though that was far off from his body language. He looked nervous and tense. Like I'd run away the second I get the chance. He turned on a lamp not an overhead light. Interesting. His apartment was a beautiful green on the walls. Lovely decorations for such a cramped apartment.

He led the way in. waiting for me to walk in. Even my own confidence had diminished a bit. I had never been nervous entering someone else's home. It was like a piece of themselves in physical form. My psychiatrist will love this. More childhood trauma to discover.

"You can come in." I noticed Spencer for the first time since opening the door. He sounded nervous.

So I took a few steps in so he could close the door.

There were books nearly everywhere, including ones from my shop and ones I didn't think he'd have. Fantasy and romance, even horror.

"Have you actually read any of these," I asked quietly, pointing at the fantasy, romance, and horror books.

"A few, I saw in your bookshelf at home you had a few fantasy books. And some romance. But Valora said that horror was your favorite." what a profiler.

"You're too good at your job Dr. Reid." I smiled, grazing my fingers over the books on his own bookshelf.

Bipolar, PTSD, Anxiety. He's a psychologist, a profiler. That's why he has them Marie. But if he did get them just for you. How considerate would that be.

"Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt?" I asked, pulling out the book.

"It was by your night stand," he explained.

"It was my mom's favorite. She read it to me all the time, especially to bed," I started walking toward him. "So I read it to sleep now. I've read it so much that I can quote the whole book at this point,"

"Did you see the movie?" He asked. I could feel his eyes on me as I opened the book.

I smiled, "Yes, the book was better though." I handed him the book asking, "have you read it?"

"Not yet," he answered, gently he continued, "I was gonna read it tonight, unless you'd like to read it to me?"

I looked up at him, did he just, ask me to stay the night? "Are you asking me to stay the night Spencer?"

He sucked in a breath, "If you'd like," he paused before rushing out, "You don't have to, but I have some clothes you can wear if you say yes."

He said wear not borrow, asked me to stay to read to him my favorite romance novel. Is this, all just a dream? If it is. I don't envy the fool that wakes me up.

"Can you help me unzip this dress? I'd like to get more comfortable before we start the book."

He nodded and led me to his bedroom. He took out a big sweater with gorgeous patterns on it that would probably make him look like a TA. A hot one though. He laid it on the bed before mumbling, "I don't have shorts I think would fit you,"

"I'm wearing shorts underneath my dress." I answered. We're so close. Close enough that I can feel his chest rise and fall with every inhale. The smell of his cologne is a drug to me. He's so close.

Close enough that I don't have to extend my arms to reach his hands. What is this feeling? Content? Happiness? I look up and see the same emotion I feel written all over his face. And I still can't place it. His eyes bore into mine with pupils dilated.

"Turn around," his voice is huskier now than it has ever been.

I immediately obeyed and I felt his hands let go of mine to undo the zipper on my dress. He slowly started to push it off my shoulders. My scars. He's going to see.

I whipped back around, "sorry I just," he can't see them.

"What's the matter?" his voice now laced with concern.

Be vulnerable, he won't hurt you. If he does you are fully capable of hurting him back. I take a deep breath before saying, "I don't want to get into detail. But for now," I couldn't look at him, "let's just say that, not every home was a good home that I stayed in once I was in the system. And the evidence of my time in those houses, is all over my back."

"It's alright, Anne." Hurt flashed over his eyes, "I'll leave the room, and wait outside."

He turned to leave and I just. Couldn't. I trusted him. They were faded. Everything will be okay. "Spencer," he stopped and stared. "Stay?"

It was a simple ask that more than either of us let on.

"Alright," he smiled, walking back toward me, "I'll stay."

I don't remember who fell asleep first. Probably me. I woke up to a sleeping Spencer and my fingers in between the pages at the beginning of Chapter Three. I did love this book. But I also loved sleep. And Spencer. Wait. I like Spencer. Yeah, like. I kissed his forehead and found a receipt to bookmark our spot and left to the kitchen to make coffee. Ah, caffeine. The fake serotonin. Looking down I still realized I was in Spencer's sweater. It smells like him and I could get drunk on this.

I felt a hug from behind with a familiar head of brown hair at my neck, Spencer.

"Good morning to you too." I giggled.

"Hmm, good morning, are you making coffee?" He asked.

I replied with a spin to face him and a, "Yes,"

"I like this," he mumbled, kissing my cheek and lips.

His lips, I can't, think straight. Barely think long enough to muster out, "Like what?" 

"You, this morning, our date last night." Is this what it feels like to do things for our own pleasure?

"I enjoyed myself thoroughly. And I usually don't on dates." didn't mean to say all that, please don't be angry.

"Why's that?" He looked hurt. Probably because I can't word things properly.

"Something, stuffy about it. And because I don't really go on dates. So I always feel out of place and awkward." which is the truth, I was used to going to events to be still, displayed, and if I failed or disappointed, I was punished.

"That makes two of us." he chuckled, "so what's your ideal date then Anne."

"I don't know actually. I hadn't thought about it a lot." which is true. Because, trauma.

"Well, think about it today, I might get called in on a case though," his lips were by my ear as he kissed from my cheek to my jaw, "if I don't get called though, I think Hotch would like to meet you. He's been asking about you since he met you."

I barely focused long enough to stammer out, "You're distracting me. I can't think straight."

He stopped and pecked my lips before saying, "He wants to meet you. And by meet you I mean subtly interrogate you," Wait, Hotch wants to meet me? And he wants that to happen? Does he want me in his world?

"I get it. Can't be any worse than my friends or adoptive parents grilling me about everything about you,"

"You'd be surprised,"

No Spencer, I think you would be surprised at what they've done. Both at my request and on their own volition. So no Spencer, he won't be any worse. Because there's nothing on me that he can look up on me prior to meeting him.


	9. "Will You?"

Aaron Hotchner was not a particularly intimidating man. But he wasn’t exactly, not-not scary. I knew Spencer valued his and Jason Gideon’s opinions over anyone else’s. But, no fear. I mean, I’m not nervous. It’s just, who meets the head of a division before they meet the other members? And who in their right mind meets just the one member? Without their partner with them since it’s their coworker? I mean, it just makes no sense.

Spencer had invited us both out on a lunch together amidst our busy schedules now that I was deemed “well enough” to go back to maintaining my work schedule. Then, Spencer, got called back. On a bogus call I might add. And I'm positive Hotchner knew it too. 

So now it’s just Aaron Hotchner, Chief of Quantico's Behavioral Analysis Unit, the direct superior of all special agents, with a wife and son. And me, a bookstore owner, with a shady past, in a relationship with one of his agents. I think I win this situation. 

“Nice to meet you again Anne,” Hotch said as he slid into the seat across from me.

I nodded, still uncomfortable and said, “Likewise, Aaron,” stupid stupid Marie.

“Call me Hotch,” he nodded.

“Right,” I inhaled sharply trying to calm my nerves. “It’s not just me right?” I asked, he looked up from the menu with a questioning glance. “I meant, this is weird for you too, right?”

“Not weird, just unconventional,” he sighed.

How- what does he mean, ‘unconventional’? “Why’s that?”

“I’ve never met anyone that Reid was dating,” why? Why wouldn’t he?

“Ah,” I nodded, “Because he doesn’t date? Or because he hooks up with people more often.”

“Both, but not at the rate you think,” then at what rate?

I can feel him profiling me already. Putting me into boxes, so let’s see what he knows. “You’re a profiler, right?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Profile me,”

He gave me a confused as all hell look asking, “Why?”

Here goes a half explanation, can’t be honest. “I wanna get an idea of what you and your team think of me. Despite Spence never talking about it, I know that their opinion of me matters. Not to mention I just like to know. The illusion of seeing through your eyes is a comforting factor for someone like me,”

“Alright,” he put down his menu before rattling off, “From the way you dress, you came from a good home that was more on the wealthy side. You’re uncomfortable with this situation, despite telling Reid you were fine with it. From when I first met you, you prefer to be alone or take care of yourself. PTSD stemming from childhood trauma makes you angry because people use it to inhibit what you can do. You also went out of your way to take care of people probably from the home or homes you stayed in.” okay, he did not need to come for me like that.

“Not bad. Except one.” I paused, “I don’t prefer to be alone. I’m used to being alone and thus grew comfortable with the notion that some people live their own lives alone.” which is the truth. I don’t like being alone. But given my circumstance, I had to get used to it. “One more question,” just to be sure, “have any of you looked me up?” His reaction said they tried. FUCK.

“Yes,” truthful though, “why are they sealed?” oh fuck, but thanks Kat.

Time to play dumb, “why are what sealed?”

“Your files, usually foster care kids files aren’t sealed unless they got a record. Which is expunged at eighteen.” he paused, gauging my reaction, luckily for me. Madame taught me how to remain neutral, “Do you have a record?”

“No, and I didn’t know they were sealed. No one tells me anything. If they did, I’d be surprised.” I lied straight through my teeth before picking back up my menu.

“I should believe you-” he started

“But you don’t,” I sighed, putting my menu back down, “which I understand. I’m a girl from out of nowhere suddenly dating Spencer, someone who according to you, doesn't date or hook up with people at a fast rate. Not to mention the first time you met me I was in the midst of a sleep paralysis episode followed by my friend Kat grilling me. I’m also a girl with a shady past that you can’t access. I wouldn’t trust me either.” I leaned forward with my hands on the table. Not a full explanation, but one to keep him from digging, “Ask me anything you want. I’ll answer truthfully.” you Marie, are a liar. But it’s one way to keep him from digging.

He took a deep breath, contemplating what I said, deciding that I was honest. He asked, “Why are your files sealed?”

“No idea,” lie.

He leaned forward, “How many homes were you in?” Jesus. Personal ain’t that Hotch.

Make eye contact, “Group or foster homes?”

“Total,” Don’t lie makes it suspicious Marie. 

“Seven, including my adoptive family, four foster homes, three group homes.” That number, isn’t pretty nor do I want to remember what happened.

“Why’d you leave the houses,” he makes a lot of eye contact. But his body language indicates that he is at least interested and will apply this in the future.

Let’s not lie Marie, “Transferred between the first two group homes because they were trying to locate any family. Lived with the Pierce family for a while until they died. The last group home was,” pausing I tried to find one way to explain it, “not good, to say the least, the other homes I never stayed in for long. Then the Auclairs. They adopted me.”

“Why so many foster homes?” okay, rude.

“I was maybe six and a half when my parents died. I was the golden age for foster parents. Moldable enough to be what they wanted.” which is true. But they never wanted me because men were CREEPY. And the women insecure. 

He hesitated before starting out with, “The last group home,-” don’t even Hotch. 

“I don’t talk about it and never will.” I cut off, “I’ll let you investigate on your own. It’s called the Beaufort Maison Pour Files, it’s French.” He took a mental note, if there was anything Madame taught me, I was glad that she taught me that. Lighting the tone back up, “You seem to be very focused on my past. Worried I have some sort of secret agent spy training?” I laughed.

He shook his head, “No, but it was sealed which leads me to ask questions.”

“Who else knows about me at the BAU?” I asked.

“Just the team we’re a part of. They seem skeptical, because they think he’s lying.” He smiled a bit, which means that he probably would too if he didn’t meet me. 

“What’s your opinion of me now?” I had to know, because in the end, a wrong impression can end any relationship. I don’t think I’d be able to handle it.

“How did lunch with Hotch go?” Kat asked over the phone.

“Just how I expected it to be.” I sighed, “He didn’t trust me which is to be expected. But I think I can win him over. His and Gideon’s are the most valued opinions after all,”

She sighed this time, knowing what I know, “True enough, did he ask about the files,”

“Yes, which led to the mistrust in the first place.” maybe sealing them was a mistake.

“Well it’s better that he doesn’t know,” I know she’s right, and yet. I can’t help but think about how much less complicated things would be. 

“It only created more questions. As long as the Beaufort files aren’t sealed, we’ll be fine.” which is fine, I’ll live with if it means I get to be with Spencer.

“They aren’t I made sure. But I can-”

I cut her off, “No, we can’t risk unsealing mine. It’ll look suspicious,” she can’t be serious with that. Having them sealed then unsealed? Wrong move, “So do your hacker thing Kat. I got a man to meet up with tonight.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, “You make me sick with your couple goals bullshit,”

“Love you too.” I hung up not waiting for a reply as I walked into Spencer’s building. ‘A last minute date night’ he argued.

I can’t shake the lunch with Hotch though, nor the risk of any of them knowing the depths of what I experienced. Why I'm branded. Spencer doesn't ask questions because I told him that in time I’d tell him. But that can mean a while before I even dare to speak about the Pierce family. Much less Beaufort. Doesn’t mean he’ll want me anymore if that time comes around though. Gods, way to sound like such a Debbie Downer, Marie.

Shortly after I knocked I was greeted with his intoxicating smell and a goofy grin.

“Come in,” he smiled.

“So,” I started, tossing my bag on the couch as he took my hand, “what is this, date night idea of yours?”

“Well,” he grinned, “Bella mentioned you liked to dance,” 

What was Bella doing talking to him? “Are you stalking me through my friends?”

“No,” he bowed his head and laughed, “but, I wanted to surprise you and Bella recommended this,” oh, man he is in so deep with Bella. She has him figured out already since I won’t say anything for this exact reason. Can’t have them already plotting against him.   
Belladonna better have the endurance to out run me. Because I am coming for her.

Taking my mind off it, I lean up and kiss his cheek.

“You missed,” he whispered.

“You’re a foot taller than me Dr. Reid,” I replied at a low whisper, I wasn’t sure he heard me.

Without warning he scooped me up in his arms so I was eye level with him. “Better?” he asked.

“Much,” I traced patterns with my hands on his cheek before asking, “may I kiss you?”

“Will you?”

His hands felt like they were everywhere. Desperate to touch every inch. He was seated on his couch while I straddled his lap. Tangling his hands into his hair. The kiss started out sweet and innocent, but it escalated into so much more than that. His lips landed on my neck and I wanted him. So much more than I thought I could want him. I tapped on his sweater to take it off, and he pulled back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to,-” his mouth was agape trying to find the words.

“Get sexual?” I finished for him.

“Yeah,” his cheeks were red and his breath ragged.

“What did you invite me over for then?” I smiled as I played with his hair.

“To dance. Classical music is your favorite right?” he asked, to which I nodded. “Well, I found a new CD I thought you would like.” he seemed nervous, rushing his words like I was mad at him.

I stared at him in bewilderment though, he remembered the classical music? He coughed and I hopped off him. He really did bring me here to dance with him. I’m not surprised he did though. And even though I wanted to sleep with him, that can wait. We have time to build to that.

He played it and piano filled the room. He held out his hand for me to take. Once I did he spun me around before resting his hand on my waist. He held me close, his body relaxed. It really was moments like this that I enjoyed the most.

“It’s alright,” I started out, “if you don’t want to take that step yet. I don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Anne. But for now, just dance with me? And maybe stay another night.” his voice was soft, afraid to ask for things he wanted. I know the feeling, and recognized the voice myself. I used it a lot on the Auclairs. So afraid that they’d say no. even to basic hygiene products.

“I will, we have a book to finish,” he laughed at my lame joke before I added, “I enjoy staying with you more than I’ll ever admit.”

Which is true. I loved staying the night with him. I woke up feeling safe and warm all over. I woke up feeling unafraid. It was a nice feeling. Soft, innocent, and calm.


	10. Authors Note. I’m sorry I hate these too

Hey, uh. Just wanted to say if you made it this far. How? And thank you. But with school starting up (literally on Monday I’ll be in school officially. I had an “orientation” yesterday) I might upload at a slower pace so instead I’ll try to upload every week Monday or Tuesday. That way I’m not burning myself out and can do something I enjoy. That being said the next update might not come until 8/11/2020 or even until 8/17/2020.  
Thanks for reading and leave comments on where you guys wanna see this relationship take off too.


	11. Anxiety, How I Never Missed You

No matter how much better I got, the girls still treated me like a child. Treating me like I’m incapable of staying alone, cooking by myself, doing anything really. I appreciated the thought. They wanted to take care of me. Show me that I was loved and that they could be there for me. But I already knew that. I knew how important I was to them, and knew what losing me meant for them.

Even Spencer jumped on the bandwagon. He always had snacks for me and somehow, extra meds. Which had to be Kat’s doing. I know he’s scared of her, but there’s no reason to let her bully him into taking care of me.

At minimum it had been a few weeks since the incident. Kat was back at my place while Spencer was finishing up paper work on his most recent case. And yes, I’m still angry over this.

“Need anything? I’m gonna head out to the store,” Kat asked.

I inhaled sharply, feeling the anger rise in my throat before spitting out, “Besides personal space and my life back? Just ingredients for Caldo Verde.”

She sighed deeply, “Anne, I know this seems like a lot,-”

“Maybe because it is,” I cut off, “Kat, I appreciate you more than anything. And I know you’re worried about me. So worried I’m eighty percent sure you blackmailed Spencer into keeping tabs on me, which is a whole issue in of itself.” I threw my book on the coffee table before walking over to her, “But one day, I may not have either of you. I can be by myself, run my shop and do all these things just like I used to. You, Spencer, and the Baker twins don’t need to be by my side all the time. So go,” I shooed her out, “go back to your house. If I need you, I have all of your numbers memorized.”

“I know Anne, I just, don’t want to see you like that.” she bowed her head and leaned against the door frame, “ever. I’ll call Spencer though.”

And with that, she left. Call him about what? I loathed it when she kept me in the dark. I’m Anne Marie Barreto gods dammit! I shouldn't be kept in the dark. Especially not by her. What is she hiding from me? And what does Spencer have to do with it?

“So I’ve been thinking,” I started out as I made coffee, “I should meet the rest of your team.”

Spence wrapped his arms around my waist, kissed my hair and whispered a sarcastic, “why?”

“Come on,” I smiled turning to face him, “you may be a profiler, but you can’t hide from me, cuz you suck at it. Why don’t you want me to meet them?” I asked, it’s true though. He may be an amazing profiler, but he can’t always keep his own mind from being read across his face. Not like I can.

“Honestly?” His face contorted like he was thinking about it, was that a bad thing? “It’s because I’m nervous. About what they’ll think or say about you.” I felt his grip tighten around my waist.

“Well, Hotch likes me. Despite not really trusting me,” I grabbed his forearm in an effort to comfort him.

He inhaled, loosening his grip, “He does, I think it’s because you remind him of someone but he won't say who.”

“Well, that’s a good sign. Right?” I chuckled, “Besides, I’m sure you’re tired of the rest of your team saying I’m not real.” I turned back around to grab us our mugs. Which this fucker put on the top shelf. Asshole.

“Here,” he grabbed them for me and placed them on the counter. He and I had found them in an antique shop of all places. They were beautiful, and in some sappy way, it felt like they were meant to be ours. 

“Hey,” I turned back around, “I am perfectly capable of reaching the shelf” I said, poking his chest.

He leaned in closer, “I know, but I like to do it for you.” he chuckled before pecking my lips.

“No, not fair. Can I have a real kiss?” I pleaded.

He leaned down with his hands on the counter, “Magic word?” he asked.

“Pretty please?” I batted my lashes.

He happily accepted it and kissed me sweetly.

I really do love our mornings together. There was always something so sweet and relaxing about them. Like they could never change or be taken away. Even if they didn't happen every morning. 

“Are you nervous?” he asked. Honestly? Yes, more than anything to tell the truth. But I don’t want him to know.

“Not particularly,” I smiled, careful to control my ‘micro-expressions’. I don’t need him thinking this was a bad idea.

We were currently waiting at a little diner, the same diner I met Hotch at. I was ready. I had the girls prep me hardcore before I came here. They grilled me on everything and anything. I should be fully prepared. But it didn’t stop my nerves from showing a bit. I silently thanked Valora for convincing me to wear to black pants. ‘It’ll hide the sweat from your palms when you rub them on your pants,’ she was right. Spencer gave me a reassuring smile and kiss on the forehead.

“Are you sure you aren’t nervous? It’s alright if you are,” he mumbled.

I looked back at him, truth Marie, “Okay so I’m nervous, what if they don’t like me?” it’s a trivial thing. But it matters more to me with every passing minute. Breathe, no need to go into an anxiety attack.

He squeezed my hand, “They’ll like you, trust me.” 

An entirety later, in walked the BAU team. Lord strike me down before I do anything embarrassing.

Jennifer ‘JJ’ Jareau approached me first. A bright smile with a pleasant, “hey, I’m Jennifer, but everyone calls me JJ.”

She slid into a seat as Elle Greenaway greeted me with a slightly sarcastic, “I’m Elle, you must be the mystery girl Reid and Hotch have been talking about.”

Derek Morgan, appeared next with a flirty, “Hey there, I’m Derek,” simple, short. Respect. He sat across next to the girls.

Penelope Garcia shook my hand aggressively saying, “so you’re the girl Hotch had me look up? I’m Penelope.” smiley, reminds me of Starr. I'm sorry what, Hotch. Hotch had them look me up? Cruel. Spencer's hand tightened bit after she said. I looked at him but he just gave me a reassuring smile that masked the worry I knew he felt. 

“Back up, let the kid breathe Garcia.” Derek pulled her away to sit next to him at the large table.

Jason gods damn Gideon was last. The only one I need to impress, “Hello, I’m Jason Gideon. Everyone calls me Gideon though.” he sat next to Spence, who seemed at ease apparently even after what Penelope said. Don't mind me, just screaming internally out of NERVES.

“Uh, I’m Anne, Marie. But you all can call me Anne.” I tried to be as outwardly warm and welcoming to deceive just a handful of profilers. No big deal. But inside I’m just screaming.

Hotch just nodded in my direction as he sat down next to Gideon, to which I gave a thumbs up to.

So awkward, so uncomfortable. JJ broke the silence with a cheerful, “Should we order?” Everyone nodded and agreed. This is so weird.

“Hey there, what can I get you guys started with?” Just my luck, our waitress was fucking Celeste. A girl I became friends with after she aided us with one of the girls. FUCK ME!

While the rest of the team rattled off their orders I just stayed silent and hoped she didn’t recognize me or at least took note of the situation and not say anything directly to me.

“And for you ma’am?” she asked referring to me.

I looked up and said, “a water and a Caesar salad.” smooth Marie, don’t say anything Celeste. Please don't.

“On it,” she smiled grabbing our menus and turning to leave but not before saying, “Oh and Anne, Katerina said to wish you luck.” She smirked and I just awkwardly laughed. Kat is a dead woman after this.

I could feel Spencer’s confused stare on the side of my head as Elle asked, “How do you know her,”

“Through Kat,” I lied. That is definitely not- not how I know her.

“Who’s Kat,” Derek piped in. Well aren’t they just an inquiring bunch.

“A friend from foster care. More like a sister though. We lived in the same group home before our adoptive family.” I smiled nervously. I felt Spencer's hand tighten around mine again to which I squeezed back.

“Foster care must’ve been tough,” JJ commented. Understatement of the year. I felt Spencer’s eyes, gauging my reaction. He knew I preferred to not talk about it. Revealing my scars to him was hard enough and he understood that, and tended to avoid the subject unless I brought it up.

I exhaled, trying not to think about it, “It was a lifetime go at this point.”

“Not always,” Gideon said. How nice of him to notice that I'm just suffering.

Internally screaming I stated, “Well, my friends helped me through a lot of it. Same with Spence, despite my protests,” hesitation from JJ indicates, she calls him Spence. Well, looks like I got a task for Kat as payback. 

“How did you two meet,” Garcia asked, lighting the tone back up. Oh thank you.

“I own a bookstore, LuBella’s Witch Elm. He came in one day and I just sorta gave him my number in hopes he’d call me,” I smiled. I looked at Spencer to see him smiling back. It really did start with 15th century literature and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“A bookstore?” Derek chuckled.

“Yup,” I sighed, okay here goes nothing, “Spence, I forgot my sweater in the car. Could you please get it for me? It’s freezing outside,” he stared at me, confusion radiating off him before I threw in another “pretty please,” with puppy dog eyes.

He nodded and kissed my forehead before getting up to leave. Before he left he shot a warning glance at his team. As soon as he was out of earshot I whipped back around, hands folded on the table. “You got approximately three, maybe five minutes tops to ask me anything and I’ll answer truthfully. I know how important this is and frankly I'd like to rip the band aid off, so hit me.”

“Why are your records sealed?” Garcia hit me first. Alright, guess Hotch said nothing. Respect. 

“No idea,” I lied.

“How bad was foster care for you?” Derek asked. Prying into my life, thanks.

I hesitated, “On a scale of one to ten? A twelve.”

“Why?” JJ asked tentatively. She was a mom friend. I can feel it. 

“I was in foster care by the time I was six and half. And jumped around homes of families that weren't the greatest and group homes that were worse. Take a wild guess. Next,” I rushed out. I hated saying anything about my life.

“Why did you send him out?” Gideon asked. He's good, he got me there.

“It’s easier to be honest and blunt. With him, one look and I turn into a sad, blubbering mess. With you guys, I can almost turn on the apathy and feel numb. When I talk about to him, it's like I can't turn it on. Being logical and risk sounding like a robot makes it seem like it never happened.” Which is true. When he was around I couldn’t seem to just, turn on the apathy and not feel the pain I went through. The torment and emotional damage. Maybe because of the way he looks at me. Like all he wants to do is protect me; and I can’t offer anything in return besides a sob story.

“How do you feel about him?” Elle’s question hit me like a train. How do I- how do I answer that?

I took a deep breath. There was no right answer, only the truth at this point, but what was that? “In honesty? Growing up I always felt like I was drowning. Suffocating in some form. He’s air in my lungs. He makes me want to get up and get better. He’s compassionate and caring. He takes this job on and even though he’ll probably never admit it; it takes a toll on him. He cares so deeply.” I stopped looking at them and back at the sweater I was wearing, it was his, he insisted on it, “He invited me over to dance one night after a case. I’m eighty percent sure my friend gave him some of my meds so he can be ready to take care of me. But I want to take care of him more than I’d admit. But in truth? I’m not sure how I feel about him. I grew up in foster care with a distorted view of relationships that became even worse as I aged through the system. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, nor the language to put to how I feel.

“What I do know, is that I’d do anything for him. I’d protect him and cherish him for as long as he’ll have me and even after that. I try my hardest to prioritize his happiness and well being over mine. I get butterflies every time he’s around and a stupid smile when I think about him. But I can’t pinpoint a feeling or emotion,” Madame did always said feelings were dangerous, “Does that answer your question?”

They all seemed relaxed and pleased with my unfiltered response.

“Yes, thank you” Elle smiled and even though I’m sure they all had their reservations about me. They seemed to silently and collectively approve. At least I hope.

“I couldn’t find your sweater.” Spencer said as he slid back into his seat, “So I brought mine,”

He handed me his jacket. I kissed his cheek whispering, “thank you,”

“For what?” He asked.

I hummed, “for being you.”


End file.
